My gaze goes to her full, round breasts which I actually haven’t fucked in some time. I groan at the thought, shifting to ease what is again turning into an almost painful erection. My cock swells against Liv’s hand.
Her eyes widen. “Nice recovery.”
“Nice dream.”
I figure my elven-self and her fairy-self both got off good and hard, but I’m no longer interested in the details. I reach up to fondle one of her breasts, running my thumb over the peak.
“Get on your knees.”
She shifts to the floor, easing herself between my legs. I lift her other breast and push my cock between them.
“Oh, God, Dean…”
“Do it.”
Liv cups her breasts and rubs them over my erection, her skin growing slick and shiny, her chest heaving against the underside of my shaft. Enveloped in her pillowy softness, I lean back and let her work herself over me, rubbing, stroking, squeezing. After a few minutes she lowers her head and licks the tip as I push upward.
Pressure tightens the base of my spine. I put my hand on the back of Liv’s neck. She shifts to the side. I grasp her around the waist and bring us both to the floor. She wraps her legs around me, arching her hips as I plunge into her.
It takes longer this time, a slow and powerful fucking that makes me grit my teeth as the pressure builds. Liv clutches my forearms and moans, her body rolling and quivering with every thrust. I could watch her for hours, feel this forever, but the urgency spirals out of control. I sink deep inside her as she convulses around me, and then there’s nothing but pleasure.
Easy. It’s so easy to be with her, my lusty fairy, my beautiful wife. Wanting her is like breathing. Needing her is in my blood. And loving her will always be the beat of my heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Olivia
June 7
crowd of parents and children bustle around the gabled front porch of the Wonderland Café. The house has been repainted a fresh hunter-green with white trim, and the whimsical sign is guarded by a white rabbit wearing a monocle.
In honor of the grand opening, there is a bouncy house at the side of the building with inflatable hot-air balloons tethered to the roof. Actors dressed as Alice in Wonderland and Wizard of Oz characters wander around with samples of cakes and cookies. There’s a face-painting station, a balloon sculptor, and a couple of musicians playing catchy songs.
Inside the café, the air shimmers with excitement and children’s voices. Clatter rises from the kitchen as Jan and her staff get out orders of soufflés, sandwiches, Rainbow Fruit Pizzas, Flying Monkey Bread, Scarecrow Straw, and plenty of Cheshire Cat cupcakes and edible teacups.
Marianne and several of the former Matilda’s Teapot staff bustle around seating people and recommending things from our tea menu, while Allie and I help expedite the food, and Brent ensures everything is running smoothly.
The place looks incredible with Allie’s detailed murals covering the walls, a painted yellow-brick staircase, new light fixtures and bright, airy colors. Greenery adorns the front door, and guests are offered the choice of sitting in one of the Oz rooms upstairs or Wonderland downstairs.
It’s everything I’d hoped it would be, everything Allie and I had envisioned.
“One Wicked Witch’s Hat, made to order.” I place a dish in front of a pigtailed little girl. She grins at the chocolate-dipped sugar cone upside down on a scoop of ice cream.
“Are you booking for your birthday party packages yet?” her mother asks me. “This would be a great place to have a party, especially in winter.”
“We certainly are. I’ll get you a copy of our party brochure so you can see all the options.”
I get her one of the brochures, then check on a couple of other customers before going outside, where a crowd is enjoying the festivities. I shade my eyes from the sun as I see Ben Stafford by the face-painting booth with his daughters. Crystal is there too, wandering around with a man whom I don’t recognize.
I approach Kelsey at the ring-toss booth, amused to see that she has a daisy painted on her cheek.
“It’s fantastic, Liv,” she says, after we exchange a hug. “You and Allie have done amazing work.”
I smile, both pleased and proud. “We couldn’t have done it without your help.”
“Yeah, you could have.” Kelsey nudges me with her elbow. “Where’s Dean?”
“On his way. The guy who was supposed to drop off some bubble-blowing machines had a problem with his car, so Dean went to pick them up.”
“Can I get a picture, ladies?” Rita Johnson, the magazine reporter who wrote the article about the transformation of Matilda’s Teapot to the Wonderland Café, stops beside us.
Kelsey and I both smile into her camera as she snaps a few pictures.
“I’ve talked to a few of the parents, and they’re thrilled to have a place like this in town,” Rita says, studying the photo in the LCD window. “Looks like you’re going to be a big success.”
“I hope so. Did you try the Red Queen cake?”